Time Is Imperfect
by museofmirth
Summary: SPOILERS FOR END OF SERIES AND MOVIE! [ONESHOT] Winry reflects on the two boys that changed her life. Slight EdWin. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!


**A/N:** This takes place after events in the series AND the movie. Do not read this if you don't want the end of the series or the movie spoiled for you! Okay, so I haven't seen the movie yet, but I have read a detailed summary of it, thus the spoiler warnings.

PLEASE REVIEW! Tell me what you think! This is my first FMA fanfic!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Full Metal Alchemist…at all…ever…

So read and enjoy!

**Time Is Imperfect**

She always knew there would be a day when the two would not return. Some deep ache in her heart had been there as long as she could remember, warning her like a silent siren that went off every time they left. This time was only slightly different, as she held no hope of seeing them trudge up the road, battered and bruised, ever again. She could only hope that their life in that other place—other world—was brighter than any days spent in Amestris. They had achieved their goals through heartbreak and suffering, and she loved them even more for that.

The wide-eyed boys, who had been her brothers, her friends, and more, would forever remain, if only in her memories. It would have been harder, she mused, had they stayed in this world. It was much easier to go on with her life when they were separated by a gulf of the infinite mysteries of time and space, and not just a distance across land. Now she would not be hurt when they did not return, because they simply could not.

Still, she awoke many nights, shaking and panicking, remembering the look in those somber amber eyes and the feel of tightened flesh connecting to the automail port. "Ed…" she whispered his name as a prayer, afraid she would forget everything unless she voiced her thoughts. She remembered how it felt to hold him, the boy she loved and would always love, who angered her more than anyone—who worried her more than anyone. She remembered how he had ordered her not to cry so many times, how he held her hand when they were both so young. Then she would fall back asleep, dreaming of soft lips meeting her own, wishing that it were not impossible for that to happen.

But she hoped he was happy now, now that Al was restored and they were once again a family, a family she would never be part of. She had known that all along, ever since they burned their house and left. Yet she could neither stop the inevitable tick of time, nor the tug of her heart for those two lost, broken boys.

She had hid her childish crush on Ed by flinging insults and brandishing her wrench, but she knew that had made it all the more obvious. Yet he was right there with her, slinging insults right back. Did he feel the same? Maybe he did at one time, she would think on those lonely nights, but not anymore.

And she knew he would not want her to be sad for them; neither would Al. Who would fix his automail? That was up to him now, she told the pinpricks in her heart. She had done all she could, poured every ounce of love and devotion into the countless arms and legs she had made for him over the years, bettering herself for his sake, and Al's. Now that time had passed, and she had no one to improve for. But she knew they would not have wanted her to stop being an automail mechanic. There were thousands out there in her world that needed her as much as Ed had. And so she promised herself she would become the best automail mechanic, not for Ed anymore, but for herself. So she could have a goal to reach, and so she could help others.

One day, she knew, she would find someone else, some kind boy with strong eyes, and she would fall in love and get married. Nothing could dim her love for those brothers, though—not time, not distance, not even another person. And so she imagined herself sitting in a rocking chair, surrounded by grandchildren, telling them the stories she told her own babies. And she would tell them all the extraordinary tale of two boys who had been her brothers, her friends, and even more, recreating the memories of her youth with vivid detail and incomparable heartache.

And she could picture the children's eyes growing wide with awe as she spoke of those two brave boys, worlds apart.


End file.
